


Amaurotic

by nominaldemonym



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Blindfolds, M/M, Mild Pet Play, My First Work in This Fandom, No Beta, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nominaldemonym/pseuds/nominaldemonym
Summary: He could always tell when Jon was ready for it. The mood of the room shifted, became charged with anticipation.Warm fingers trailed up his thigh. “May I?”
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Thy'lek Shran
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Amaurotic

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, gentle reader. Today, I offer you: gratuitous smut that caters to my specific tastes. In future? Probably more of the same. Gotta write the porn you wish to see in the world, and all that. You know how it is.

Shran did not understand humans.

It wasn't for a lack of trying, on either side. Humans had produced a dizzying array of writing, audio, video, and every other medium they had the technology for, and Shran diligently pored through as much of it as he could spare the time for. He searched databases far and wide. Humans were untiringly interested in telling each other about themselves. But nobody could explain the quirks of his relationship with Captain Archer.

They made excuses to cross paths often. That much was straightforward. What happened after was less conventional.

He was reclining on Archer's bed in his quarters, with Archer blindfolded and sprawled in his lap. The room was filled with the soft sound of their breathing.

Early in their relationship, Shran had made a gift of Andorian silk to his new lover. It wasn't much, the stuff was heinously expensive and a strip was all he could afford. But it was lovely, and more importantly it was traditional. Archer had shown an appropriate amount of awe at its subtle colors and fine texture, and then promptly done something that definitely wasn't traditional.

“It's the perfect length,” he said, and tied it over his eyes.

“What...?” Shran was so baffled he couldn't think of which question to ask first.

Archer was blushing, the color spreading across his cheeks contrasting nicely with the blues of the silk. “I, um, I can't really explain, I just like it,” he confessed. “And it's so soft...” He reached out for Shran, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

He hadn't been kidding about liking it, because the sex had been incredible. Shran would never be able to wear that shirt again. He was intrigued by the mystery, though, and embarked on a campaign to find out the appeal of blindfolds. All to no avail so far. The closest he had come was a series of platitudes that everyone was different, and personal tastes needed no explanation. It was increasingly looking like he wasn't going to get any.

Fortunately, he didn't need to understand it to enjoy it. And so, every time they reunited, they would retire to the captain's quarters, strip to their skivvies, and Shran would tie the silk blindfold on. Then ranks and responsibilities fell away, and they were just Jon and Thy'lek. 

It was absurdly pleasant to let Jon curl up in his lap, let his hands roam all over his body, and feel the stress and tension slowly drain out of him. Whatever made Jon want to get blindfolded and be treated like a pet, he clearly needed it, and Thy'lek was happy he was the one trusted to provide it. He would stroke his pet's hair, listen to him breathe, and enjoy his solid warmth. Sometimes Jon would simply fall asleep like this, but usually the ritual had a more interesting ending.

He could always tell when Jon was ready for it. The mood of the room shifted, became charged with anticipation. 

Warm fingers trailed up his thigh. “May I?”

Thy'lek was half hard already. “Yes,” he rasped. Jon smiled, and made short work of what little he was wearing. His hands explored all the way down Thy'lek's legs as he helped him kick off his shorts. Then he worked his way back up. He slowly mouthed his way over Thy'lek's knee, carefully, as if he didn't already have the way memorized, kissing and nuzzling the whole way. Thy'lek dug his fingers in just a little harder where they were buried in Jon's hair, but he didn't let himself get too impatient. It was all part of the game. 

Warm human hands traced over every part of him they could reach, except for the part that most wanted attention. That was reserved for Jon's mouth, and when he finally reached it he licked from the root to the tip and took it into his mouth in one smooth motion. 

Thy'lek growled with lust and rolled his hips to keep from bucking. As always, it was sinfully good, so hot he thought he might melt, and nearly overwhelming. He rocked a little harder to encourage him to take more, and felt Jon smile around him as he sucked harder. His pet's favorite game was to drive him crazy with anticipation and then give him exactly what he wanted all at once, and as far as Thy'lek was concerned, he always won. He was so wickedly talented with his tongue, licking with practiced ease in all the right places, and swiping at his slit with just the right amount of pressure, that he thought he might explode. It really had been too long since they had last done this.

“Jon,” he managed. It was difficult to form words when he just wanted to howl with pleasure. “I'm not going to last.” He could feel the tension building in his entire body.

Jon didn't even take his mouth off Thy'lek to reply, just squeezed the hip he'd been holding onto to acknowledge the warning. Somehow, that was the best part. Thy'lek let his hand in Jon's hair curl into a fist, arched his back, and let out a long noise of satisfaction as he came into Jon's mouth. The feeling of his hot human mouth swallowing around him was incredible. How had the universe ever let him get this lucky? He was too blissed out to ponder it. All that mattered was his pet, panting as he finally let Thy'lek's cock slip out of his mouth and reaching blindly for him.

Thy'lek pulled him up so they were laying side by side. Jon loved to cuddle, and in no time he had both arms around Thy'lek and one leg slung over his thigh, grinding lazily against him.

“Feeling better?” Jon asked, a little smugly.

“Much.”

“You seemed stressed.” He ran a hand softly over Thy'lek's face, as though trying to check his expression, then let it settle in his hair.

“Nothing you can't cure, pinkskin.” Jon flushed a little at the nickname, turning even pinker. Thy'lek caught his lips in a kiss before he could lodge any objections. 

He worked him over slowly and thoroughly, letting his hands wander. He could taste himself on Jon's tongue. Although he didn't enjoy the taste as much as Jon claimed to, it always felt excitingly transgressive, and he diligently sought out every trace he had left in that wonderful warm mouth until Jon was moaning and squirming against him, fingernails digging into his back. He loved going slowly and being teased, a game he tended to have much more patience for than Thy'lek. Now, with the edge taken off his lust, he thought he might be winning this round.

They were both short of breath when they broke apart. Thy'lek ran his fingers over the lips he'd just been kissing, up the strong nose, and across the blindfold, smoothing out all the small wrinkles and creases and admiring the way it looked on Jon. He hadn't even had a use in mind when he got it, but human ingenuity never ceased to amaze him. Nor did the vulnerability and trust writ large on his pet's face.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, and Jon nuzzled his hand. He could turn his human this way and that with just his fingertips. “My lovely pet.”

Jon bit his lip. He usually acted embarrassed when he was called a pet, but there was no mistaking how hard he'd gotten. “Yes,” he whispered.

Thy'lek kissed his way down Jon's neck until he reached the spot where his pulse ran closest to the surface, and nipped it gently. “Mine,” he growled into his lover's throat.

“Yes,” Jon whimpered, and moved against him with more urgency. There was a smear of something wet across his hip and stomach; Jon was getting excited. It wouldn't do to let the game end too soon. He had to draw it out. He rolled Jon onto his back, holding him down by the wrists so he couldn't touch anymore. Jon made a disappointed noise, but lodged no formal complaint; he also knew how the game was played. Instead he squirmed, just hard enough to make Thy'lek tighten his grip and use his weight to hold him down, and then settled, holding onto the bedclothes. Thy'lek made a contented noise and let his mouth wander over the fuzz that decorated Jon's chest.

He always found the texture interesting, and when he ran his antennae through it he could taste so much. There were sharp salts and subtle pheromones, so many compounds that made up Jon's unique scent, that made him different and strange and human, and when he sweated he could fill the room with them. It was intoxicating. He used his teeth on one of Jon's nipples, just hard enough to make him yelp, and then soothed over the indentations he'd made with the cusp of one antenna. He chuckled in triumph at the way it made him squirm and whimper. While a non-Andorian might never fully grasp the implications of him using his antennae like this, Jon always appreciated it, and his reactions never failed to gratify. Thy'lek wandered lazily lower, letting his antennae trail all over, savoring the taste. 

He deliberately avoided Jon's cock, drawing out the game for as long as possible. His boxers were askew, having been pulled down just far enough to free his erection. Thy'lek lifted him by the hips to take them off all the way, trailing his fingers down Jon's ass in the back as he used his teeth to pull them down. Jon made appreciative noises at the casual display of strength, adjusting his grip on the sheets to keep his balance. As soon as he had them off, Thy'lek tossed them in a corner of the room, where they were immediately forgotten.

Now he had Jon by the ankles, which he spread wide. His pet made a lovely sight, splayed out beneath him, ready to be ravished. He wasted no time in reaching over to the nightstand and slicking his fingers. 

Jon moved a little, restless at not being touched. “Please, I've been good,” he mumbled.

“You have,” Thy'lek agreed, and wrapped one hand firmly around Jon's dick. Jon, who had been expecting to be touched somewhere else, bucked his hips with a surprised “Oh!” The look on his face was wonderful.

“Oh yes,” Thy'lek murmured, grinning as he stroked his pet and was rewarded with more jerky thrusts into his hand. “Mmm, perhaps I should tie you up next time, you're all over the place.” It was actually not difficult in the least to control him like this, but what a mental image. 

“Please,” Jon moaned, scrabbling with his heels for better purchase to push himself against Thy'lek. He took that as approval of his suggestion. He would have to start saving up for more silk.

It was quite easy to work a finger into him while he was so distracted. The familiar slick warmth was so good, and then Jon _flexed_ around him and he was suddenly so hard he couldn't breathe.

“I can't wait to be inside you,” he growled. Jon let out a breathless laugh that turned into a moan as he slipped the second finger in. Thy'lek spread his fingers, letting Jon choose the pace at which he stretched himself on them. The rhythm was easy to establish—up into one hand, down onto the other, letting gravity do most of the work. Thy'lek let it build, squeezing his pet's erection and dragging his thumb over the head to encourage him along. When he was almost to Jon's sweet spot, he brought his hands out of synchronicity. Jon made a frustrated noise and squirmed, unable to tell which direction he was supposed to go.

“Please,” was all he had the presence of mind to say. Thy'lek grinned and nipped his thigh.

“Patience, pet. You're almost there.” He curled his fingers with the ease of long practice, and Jon's gasp told him he had hit the mark. “Ah, that sounds just right.”

“ _Please_.” There was an edge of desperation in Jon's voice, and one of his hands had come up to search blindly for him. Thy'lek nuzzled into it reverently.

“I've been good too, wouldn't you say?” he said, withdrawing both hands so he could reposition himself.

“Yes,” Jon agreed without hesitation. His hand traveled around to the back of Thy'lek's neck, his legs spread to try to find Thy'lek's hips. Thy'lek took his ass in both hands, loving the way the muscles flexed under his fingers, and lifted him up to align them.

It was always a struggle not to simply take his pet hard and fast as soon as he felt the welcoming silken heat around him. Instead he eased in, slowly but inexorably, burying his face in Jon's neck and moaning against his pulse point. Jon let him in, relaxing gradually even as his arms tightened around Thy'lek. 

Then they were locked together, as far as they could go. They kissed in an enthusiastic mess. Thy'lek kept one hand on Jon's hip to hold him in place, and let his other hand wander everywhere. They rocked together, searching for the perfect angle. He knew immediately when he had found it, because Jon moaned delicious desperation into his mouth and clawed at his back. It spurred him on, and he snapped his hips, driving harder into him. His aim was true; Jon howled.

After so much teasing, they were both impatient, and it took no time at all for Thy'lek to set a relentless pace. He buried himself in that consuming, generous heat, hitting the right spot every time, and Jon locked his ankles around his hips and urged him on with every broken “yes” that spilled from his lips.

This was the best part of the game, the part where they were both winning, chasing after the same goal with mutual desperation. It was building already, about to break over them both, and he knew the signs well enough to make sure it was simultaneous. He took Jon's cock in hand and squeezed, not too hard but not softly either. Jon let out one soft, beautiful whimper and came just as Thy'lek hit home one last time. With a sound that perfect ringing in his ears, he thought he might never stop spilling himself into Jon, but eventually he had ridden out every aftershock, and his muscles started to protest.

He eased out and rolled onto his side. Jon was there immediately, nuzzling into his neck and curling around him. Thy'lek stroked his back, satisfied beyond words. This was the prize they played for: the pleasant exhaustion that was so complete they could only lie there, tangled together, breathing and feeling each other's heartbeat gradually return to normal.

He slid one finger along the silk, which had become a little disheveled but was still secure.

“Want it off?”

“Mm, I suppose.”

Thy'lek tugged the blindfold off and set it on the nightstand. Jon's eyes were dilated, accentuating his doe-eyed trusting smile.

“Stay the night?” 

He always did, of course, but it was part of the ritual for Jon to ask. He pretended to think it over.

“I'd love to.”

Without even bothering to climb under the covers, they both surrendered to the need for sleep, already looking forward to the next time.


End file.
